The Strange One
by Walks-in-Shadows
Summary: An Autistic gamer gets sucked into his copy of TESIV: Oblivion, or does he? Self-insertion. Rated M for language and future events.
1. Prologue: Capture

Prologue: Capture.

It was a frosty, almost moonless night as Lucien Lachance, dressed in his customary black robes and hood, was crossing the northernmost bridge in Cheydinhal on his way to the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary when something seemed to stop him in his tracks. An Argonian was sitting on the railing of the bridge and singing cheerfully.

The Argonian was dressed nondescriptly enough in black wide pants with a rough leather cuirass and rough leather boots, but it was his face that gave Lucien his second pause. Almost completely black with a wide crimson band around his face from ear to ear and across the eyes, except where more black surrounded them, it was umbric enough to speak of Daedric interference of some kind. It was not this, however, that had caused the Dark Brotherhood Speaker to halt so suddenly, it was what the Argonian was singing. While parts of the melody were bright and lilting like that of a children's song, the lyrics were of a clearly darker origin:

"Don't set store by a Sanguivore

He will hypnotise you till you start to snore

Then his health he'll keep (Just because it's cheap)

By feeding on your lifeblood while you're deep in sleep

Don't set store by a Sanguivore

They are infamous in Tamrielic Lore

Lord Imbel, Seridur, and Janus Hassildor

You should never set store by any Sanguivore

You may be a quite friendly guy

Who thinks no one would tell him lies

But those sanguivores wear disguise

So they can feed from you on the sly

For instance:

Don't set store by a Sanguivore

He will hypnotise you till you start to snore

Then his health he'll keep (Just because it's cheap)

By feeding on your lifeblood while you're deep in sleep

Don't set store by a Sanguivore

They are infamous in Tamrielic Lore

Vicente, Seridur, and Rona Hassildor

You should never set store by any Sanguivore"

While Lucien had never heard the word 'sanguivore' before, it was close enough to the words 'sanguine' and 'omnivore' for him to guess at its meaning: blood eater. And the description of the sanguivores' habits and the infamy in Tamrielic lore the reptilian humanoid was singing about made it very clear that the song was describing Cyrodiilic vampires. Of which one of the Dark Brotherhood Executioners, Vicente Valtieri, was one. The Vicente mentioned in the song? The Speaker was not about to take any chances.

The Argonian had started again and was up to the word 'hypnotise' when the Paralysis spell hit him, rendering him helpless as he crumpled and fell to the floor of the bridge. He tried to call out for the guards, but could only get a gurgling groan past his frozen vocal chords. He heard a deep, cultured voice purring, "I would like to know how you came by your knowledge," and then the world went utterly black as he fainted with the shock of the trauma.

"Well," said Lucien, disgustedly, "if other Argonians are as weak as all that…"

Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.

('Cyrodiilic Vampires'; Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy, share, and perform this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved. [Adapted from 'Never Smile at a Crocodile'; Copyright © 1940 Frank Churchill. All rights reserved.])


	2. Meeting Vicente

Chapter One: Meeting Vicente.

It was an hour later when the Argonian finally came back to consciousness, lying on a bed with other beds nearby, and the room he was in being reminiscent of one in a castle of some kind. His boots had been removed. As he took in these details, he simply lay as still as he could, moving nothing but his eyes.

"The spell wore off a minute after I cast it," said the mellifluous voice he remembered from before he had blacked out. "You're no longer paralysed."

The Argonian hissed as he reflexively dived off the bed and attempted to get under it, but it was too low to the floor. Instead, he settled for hiding behind it before stating, "I wasn't looking for you, Lucien Lachance."

"How do you know my name?" demanded Lucien.

"Too long of a story," the Argonian replied.

"What else do you know?" a new voice asked, this one of a higher timbre than the first.

The Argonian visibly relaxed and smiled at the Breton vampire who was dressed in a dark shirt and black wide pants with leather boots and a gold amulet, and who didn't look as old as the reptilian humanoid had expected. Then he replied, "I know you, Vicente Valtieri. But first, tell me, what am I?"

"What do you mean, what are you?" the other two asked in synchronicity.

"Well, I can feel that I have a tail," the reptilian humanoid responded. "That means either Khajiit or Argonian. Then when I look down, I can see that my hands and feet have scales and claws, and my tail is scaly too. Also, my voice has a tendency towards sibilance. So am I hallucinating, or am I truly an Argonian?"

Lucien stepped forward and the Argonian hissed as he watched him warily, ready to leap back again if necessary. Vicente gave some kind of signal which caused the Speaker to resume his former position, then addressed the beastman directly.

"May I approach you?" he asked politely. He had not failed to notice that the Argonian had seemed to be glad to see him a few moments earlier, while remaining fearful of Lucien, probably as a result of the Paralysis spell that had been cast on him by the Dark Brotherhood Speaker at the bridge near the Great Chapel of Arkay.

"Yeah, sure thing."

"Does that mean yes?"

"Of course."

The vampire asked the Argonian to strip down to his loincloth, then began a minute examination.

"Well," he said at last, "without making you strip entirely naked, I can tell you that you're completely Argonian. Why did you think that you're not?"

"Because where I came here from, I look more like the scary dude there," the reptilian humanoid said, indicating Lucien. The Imperial snorted in disbelief, not least because he imagined that a vampire would be scarier than himself.

"It's true," the apparent Black Marsh denizen insisted. "Admittedly, my eyes were blue, and my hair was dark brown and short so I didn't look quite like the Speaker, but I _did_ look like an Imperial with just a touch of Nord. Not that you have any Nord in you, Lucien. More like Breton with a name like yours. May I see what I look like now? The ice covering the stream that I was sat above isn't exactly reflective, you know."

"Of course, do forgive me," Vicente replied, fetching a large panel of highly polished bronze from the wall near the other end of the row of beds. He was starting to believe the strange Argonian's story because of a number of things. First, there was the reptilian humanoid's knowledge of the Dark Brotherhood's Executioner and Speaker, despite his not having been inducted into the organisation of assassins. And there was also his strange speech pattern and vocabulary which Vicente had never heard before in all his travels throughout the Tamrielic Empire. Not to mention the beastman's unusual habits, one of which was to make sweeping movements on his head with his hands as though tucking nonexistent hair under an equally nonexistent cap.

Lucien quietly left the room while the umbric Argonian was busy studying his face and orange eyes with vertical slits for pupils. He also scrutinised his body, limbs, and broad tail which were black with red highlights wherever the light caught them. He seemed to be particularly fascinated with the single, high, spiny, fin-like crest that ran like a crimson blaze along the centre of his head from the forehead to the nape of his neck and the short crimson fin that ran down the length of his tail, as well as his long tongue which was broad at the back of his mouth, then narrowed along its length to end in a point at the front.

"So, what's your name?" Vicente asked him.

There was a long pause. "You can call me Walks-in-Shadows," the Argonian replied at last. "It ain't my true name, but it'll do."

"Fitting," the vampire responded dryly. "Do you know how you ended up in Cheydinhal?"

"No idea," stated Walks-in-Shadows. "All I _do_ know is that I went to sleep as a human, in my own bed, in my own home. And when I woke up, I was in a strange bed, as an Argonian, in the Newlands Lodge. I had to quickly grab what clothes I could see and sneak out because I didn't know if the ten Septims necessary for my stay had been paid or not."

"Then how do you know the price of a night at an inn?"

"Again, that's a long story."

Vicente decided to change the nature of his questions. "Lucien told me that you were singing a song about me when he met you," he said. "What was it?"

"When he paralysed me, you mean. Anyroad, he can tell you, I'm sure." Walks-in-Shadows suddenly noticed the absence of the Speaker. "Hey, where'd he go?"

"Even Speakers sometimes have contracts to fulfil. Anyway, I'd like to hear it sung, and Lucien isn't known for his singing voice."

"Neither are Argonians, come to that."

"True. But you can apparently hold a tune, which Lucien can't. Also, your voice is unlike that of other Argonians. Please, sing your song for me."

So Walks-in-Shadows sang the song again. Once he had finished, Vicente asked, "_Is_ the Vicente in your song myself?"

"Yeah."

"And is the Janus Hassildor you mention the one I think he is?"

"The Count of Skingrad? Oh, yeah." The Argonian smirked as he finished, "I have no need of rumours to tell me _that_."

"And Seridur?"

"A dude who lives in the Temple District of the Imperial City. Typical, arrogant Altmer. He's in charge of the Order of the Virtuous Blood, which hunts vampires. The irony's really delicious!"

Vicente smiled. While Walks-in-Shadows had a lot of arcane knowledge, it had been clear from the beginning that he had a vocabulary to match and knew how to use it.

"How do you know who's a vampire and who isn't?"

"That's part of the story that's too long to tell. Maybe I'll write a book about it one day, then you'll know what I can't yet tell you."

"Do you think you'll be here that long?"

"I truly don't know, but anything's possible if I'm here, ain't it?"

"So why _were_ you singing that song?"

"Just was. Bored, I guess. I hadn't anything better to do, so I sat on the bridge railing and sang."

All this time, Walks-in-Shadows had been getting back into his clothes and armour.

"And what are you going to do now?"

"What are your prisoners normally allowed to do?"

"Well, since you've answered most of my questions to my satisfaction, you're no longer my prisoner."

"Mega! Then I'll go to the Imperial City and try to get in here the usual way."

"Wait, I'll have to let you out."

Vicente beckoned Walks-in-Shadows to follow him, then left the living quarters and strode to the door of the Sanctuary. As the two approached, the door spoke in a hoarse whisper.

"What is the colour of night?" it asked.

Vicente was about to answer when a voice beside him responded, "Sanguine, my Brother."

The vampire was about to ask how Walks-in-Shadows knew that, but gave it up as a lost cause almost immediately. He knew what the answer was likely to be. He said instead, "One more thing; please don't sing your song anymore."

The Argonian responded cheekily, "Which one? I've written several." Then he relented and said, "Okay, but only 'cos you asked me so politely. See you soon!" he added as he went through the door.

Vicente shook his head, smiling. He didn't think he would ever see Walks-in-Shadows again, and it had been nice to be treated just like everyone else for a change. He would miss the unusual Argonian who had just taken up nearly two hours of his time, he really would.

Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.


	3. Preparation

Chapter Two: Preparation.

As Walks-in-Shadows emerged from the basement of the Abandoned House, he went through his pockets and smiled.

'If I can steal from a vampire in the Dark Brotherhood so easily, life in Cyrodiil's gonna be a breeze,' he thought as he hung the gold amulet from the handle of the basement door.

It wasn't like he had actually wanted it, he'd just wanted to prove to himself that he could use the skills that had helped to keep him in Septims when the Tamrielic Empire had just been part of a series of games. What he wouldn't be giving back to Vicente, however, was the money that he'd also taken as the Dark Brotherhood Executioner had escorted him to the door of the Sanctuary. That would buy him the tools also necessary to survive here; food, alchemy equipment, weapons, lockpicks, and repair hammers. After briefly popping upstairs to pick up a valuable book he could sell that he knew would be there, the dark Argonian finally left through the front door. Once he'd waited for the shops to open, during which time he quietly hummed scraps of various melodies, he was haggling for a good price to sell the volume at in Mach-Na's Books. The dickering went back and forth until a sum was reached that both Argonians were happy with, then Walks-in-Shadows left for The March Rider, the blacksmith's just a few yards away.

To say that Tertia Viducia was astonished at the darkness of the scales of the Argonian who entered her shop would be very much an understatement. However, she managed to treat him in an identical manner to all her other potential customers. There was no telling who he might be, just like the scruffy female Bosmer who had turned out to be the Champion of Cyrodiil. So she treated the dark Argonian with the same equableness that she did everyone else. It was now Walks-in-Shadows' turn to be amazed. Up until now, everyone had treated him with surprise, if not outright suspicion because of his dark colouration, which was highly unusual and had never before been seen in all of Tamriel. However, he had business to attend to as rapidly as possible if he was to get back into the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary within the next sevenday.

After they had greeted each other, the umbric Argonian asked Tertia what day and month it was.

"It's a fine Loredas in Sun's Dusk," the smith replied. "Why didn't you know?"

Walks-in-Shadows thought for a moment, then responded, "I've been sick for a long time. Trapped in a waking dream."

It wasn't actually the truth, but it was how his life had felt up to the point that he had awakened in the Newlands Lodge. Also, if he _didn_'_t_ 'wake up,' his life might quickly be over. He wasn't on the safe side of a games controller this time, he was right _in_ the game. If he got killed by a wolf or a marauder, there was no reloading, and no guarantee that he would wake up back in his own world.

Tertia asked, "But didn't anyone tell you what day it is when you woke up?"

"I didn't think to ask," the reptilian humanoid replied honestly. How could he have forgotten something so basic as to ask what day it was?

"Well, if there's anything else you need to know, you can ask me."

"Sure, thanks. Hey, you got these items?"

Walks-in-Shadows bartered for a shortsword, a bow, arrows, and two large oilskin satchels, each enchanted with a Feather spell, in which to carry his items, remembering to conserve some money for the things that he would have to buy elsewhere. He knew that he could get the same items, of better quality and for free, in forts and other places, but he was on a mission and time was of the essence. Next stop, the Cheydinhal Chapter of the Mages Guild.

At the Mages Guild, everyone stopped what they were doing to gaze wide-eyed at Walks-in-Shadows. Of course, he had become so used to it by now that he didn't even notice. He did, however, observe the Chapter head, an Argonian female named Deetsan, smiling at him with an expression in her eyes that the dark Argonian couldn't decipher. Since he didn't know how to ask Deetsan why she wasn't shocked by his appearance, Walks-in-Shadows instead directed his attention to buying a mortar and pestle from Eilonwy, a female Altmer. They would be enough to make a few basic potions with until he had enough experience to use more equipment. Plus, he knew he couldn't use the full set while he was on the move, not with the hurry that he was in. Once he had bought the alchemy equipment, the reptilian humanoid realised that he hadn't much money left. Certainly not enough to buy food _and_ lockpicks, and he had forgotten to buy repair hammers from the blacksmith earlier. It was time to try something which he wasn't sure would work; rifling through the various containers around Cheydinhal.

Starting at the west side of the town, Walks-in-Shadows, in full view of several people, systematically went through all the barrels, crates, and sacks that were against the walls of several of the buildings, taking whatever stuff he deemed useful. As he finished and no guards came to arrest him, it became apparent that items and containers in the open obviously had a common ownership, since there couldn't possibly be any coding conferring right of possession on the umbric Argonian alone. He would just have to be careful to either have his things with him or leave them in locked containers, that was all.

Walks-in-Shadows sought out the empty piece of ground behind the Fighters and Mages Guilds where he took off his satchels, emptied them onto the ground, then sorted through everything he now owned. On top of the black wide pants and rough leather armour that he wore, he had a fine iron shortsword, a fine iron bow, fifty iron arrows (which he would have to do his best to conserve), the quiver that the arrows had come in, a mortar and pestle, greaves, gauntlets, a helmet, and a shield all made of rough leather, a pair of rugged breeches, a pair of green felt linens, a dark shirt, a dark green shirt, a shirt with suspenders, and a coarse linen shirt that he decided to use for sleeping in. He had also managed to get several bread rolls, some wedges of cheese, a variety of different meats, many different fruits and vegetables, various potions, twelve repair hammers, fifty-six lockpicks, and a bedroll, as well as his enchanted satchels.

Taking off his black wide pants, the dark Argonian folded them up and packed them away with the rest of his items, apart from his armour and weapons, which he equipped along with his satchels once he had finished. After this, he walked back to the Mages Guild and spoke to Deetsan about joining. As soon as his membership had been confirmed, he went upstairs to the nearest bed, stripped down to his loincloth and donned his coarse linen shirt, then lay on his side under the covers. After a while of tossing and turning, he grabbed his satchels and armour, placing them on top of the covers on one side of himself.

"Guess I'm still Autistic," he murmured to himself before, finally comfortable, he crashed into an exhausted slumber.

Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.


	4. Discussing the Prisoner

Chapter Three: Discussing The Prisoner.

Four hours of dreamless sleep later, Walks-in-Shadows woke up refreshed and alert. He got dressed in his armour and equipped himself with his gear, then went downstairs, bade the mages farewell, and exited the Guild, though not before spending the last of his money on one more thing. As he left Cheydinhal through the West Gate, humming the tune of 'Cyrodiilic Vampires' (he had technically only promised not to sing the lyrics), he had no way of knowing that Lucien Lachance was, at that very moment, entering the town by the gate to the east.

After the completion of his contract, of which just the travelling had taken over twelve hours, the Dark Brotherhood Speaker had gone to his home, Fort Farragut, rather than returning directly to the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, as he had run out of poisoned apples and needed to replenish his stock. Once he had ensured that his black mare, Shadowmere, was still safely hobbled, Lucien had set off to the town on foot. He was looking forward to getting some answers from a certain Argonian, and he had plenty of methods for gaining them. His particular favourite was covering the eyes and ears, or tympanic membranes, of the interrogatees before placing them in a pool of water that was held at a constant blood temperature in a lightless and soundproofed room which had baffling on every surface to absorb sound and prevent echoes. Lucien had heard of Speakers who used Lightning or even Flame spells in order to extract the answers they sought, but he had always found such methods to be crude and thuggish, as well as being ineffectual because of those being questioned frequently dying before any information could be gained from them as a result of such treatment.

The Speaker, still deep in thought, absent-mindedly unlocked the well that was the secret entrance to the Sanctuary, climbed down the ladder inside, then headed straight for the living quarters. He went through the door, strode down the short passageway, turned the corner to look towards the beds, and saw… nothing but beds. Maybe Vicente was talking to the prisoner somewhere. He would have to be sought out. Sighing with frustration, Lucien left the living quarters once more, then rapidly walked down the passageway past Ocheeva's room, and then down the steps until he had reached the vampire's chamber on the deepest level of the Sanctuary.

He knocked on the door and called out, "Vicente?"

"I'm in, Brother," came the reply.

Lucien entered the room, but Vicente was sat on his own at his table, reading a book, and no one else was with him.

"Where is he, dear Brother?" the Speaker asked, obliquely.

"To whom do you refer?" Vicente enquired.

"My prisoner," Lucien coldly and calmly said, his tone dangerous.

Vicente's voice held an equal level of threat as he responded, "You didn't say that he was your prisoner alone, Brother. After I had questioned him and judged him to be of no danger to this Sanctuary or to myself, I released him."

"I didn't give you the authority to release him, there are still unanswered questions!"

"You didn't deny me the authority, either. And might I remind you that as the largest peril he posed was to myself and my kind, any authority was mine more than yours. I released the Argonian, and before he left, obtained his promise that he wouldn't sing his song anymore. Maybe he'll realise that any other secrets he may hold as a result of his arcane knowledge should also not be so casually released. He seemed to be bright enough to me, Brother."

"How long did you spend with him after I left?"

"About three quarters of an hour, I should say."

"An hour is not a lot of time to judge somebody."

"As a vampire, my perceptions are sharper and faster than even those of the beast races, Brother. Or perhaps you've forgotten that."

Lucien had, so he admitted the fact and sought Vicente's forgiveness, which the Executioner readily gave. The Breton vampire and the Imperial said their farewells, then Lucien Lachance started back towards Fort Farragut. And although there was no apparent change in his expression or demeanour, his stride was definitely less rapid than it had been when he was walking _from_ the East Gate.

Once the Dark Brotherhood Speaker had reached his destination, he went through the door and traversed the passageways towards the single chamber that he inhabited. As he passed each of the several Dark Guardians patrolling the hallways, they stopped to let him pass, then resumed their rounds, single-mindedly guarding the security and well-being of their master, whose head was brimming with thoughts of where the Argonian that he wished to speak to might have gone and what could be done to locate him. Then he sighed and gave it up. As a Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood, his duties would likely keep him too busy to be doing any seeking of Argonians. Lucien would just have to hope that Vicente was right about the reptilian humanoid that had been taken captive. But if any of the Dark Brotherhood's secrets got further than Andel Indarys, Count of Cheydinhal, Lucien would have a contract for which he would require no payment.

The Speaker left the bag that he had been packing and returned along the musty, dank corridors of his home to the clear air outside. Once there, he walked towards Shadowmere, then stopped as he saw the note which had been tied to her stirrup leather with a piece of string. Since he knew from whom it had likely been sent, Lucien did not hesitate to untie and open it at once, discovering that his supposition was correct.

The note read: 'Speaker Lachance, a new potential recruit for the Dark Brotherhood has been observed, so make for the Imperial City with all due haste. This candidate is making his way from there to Cheydinhal, and will likely spend some time at the abandoned cabin of Roland Jenseric. One word of caution, however; the one whom you are to meet seemed to commit his murder deliberately, rather than accidentally or in self-defence. Therefore, he may not hesitate to cold-bloodedly strike at you, and will definitely not be in shock as most Brotherhood candidates are.

Ungolim, Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.'

Lucien smiled as he unhobbled Shadowmere, then mounted her and rode back in the direction of Cheydinhal and on towards the Imperial City. If the new candidate _did_ attack him, he would have little trouble in defending himself. However, as the Speaker knew from his experience, it was more likely that this potential recruit would actually be glad to see him.

And as he urged Shadowmere into a gallop towards the place assigned for the meeting, Lucien's smile only grew wider.

Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.


	5. Avenging a Murder

Chapter Four: Avenging a Murder.

After four hours of alternately walking and running, Walks-in-Shadows finally reached the Temple District of the Imperial City. Once he had entered through the gate from the Talos Plaza District, he took his bearings from a book of maps which he'd discovered in a barrel outside the Wawnet Inn before crossing the bridge to the Imperial City proper. He had been quite pleased with his new acquisition as it contained not only a map of the whole of Cyrodiil with all of the various towns and cities already marked upon it, but also had maps of the layout of those places, as well as a large number of blank pages on which to create his own maps of any places he might subsequently come across. When he had located the place that he was looking for, Walks-in-Shadows set off towards it.

Walking down the street, going to the right around the partially destroyed Temple with the towering dragon statue inside it, then turning left at the gate to the Imperial City Waterfront and down the narrow lane there, Walks-in-Shadows quickly reached his destination, Seridur's House.

He knocked upon the door, and when it was opened, enquired, "Excuse me, I wondered if your master is at home and receiving visitors today?" He didn't normally speak with such formality, but as he didn't want the Dunmer who had answered the door to remember him, he'd made a special effort to speak more like others in Cyrodiil. He had also removed all of his armour and other equipment apart from his boots, and donned his dark green shirt and green felt linens. The clothing wouldn't exactly make him look like the kind of person who would be calling on an Altmer who could afford to employ a Dunmer as a personal guard cum butler, but it would disguise him sufficiently well for this information gathering exercise.

"My master _is_ at home, but is not currently receiving visitors. He will be travelling later this evening," the Dunmer replied. "My name is Cylben Dolovas. May I help you instead?"

"If you would please inform your master that I will instead call upon him tomorrow at two o' clock precisely, that will be sufficient," said the umbric Argonian.

Walks-in-Shadows hadn't actually planned on returning to the house at all, but it might help to make him appear innocent if he acted like he expected to be able to visit Seridur at any time after today. He watched the door of the house close, then turned from it, walked to a well which was at the left side of the house, concealed himself behind it, and then prepared to wait, changing back into his leather armour and re-equipping himself as he did so. In the event, he didn't have to wait for very long, as Seridur himself emerged from his house just a few minutes later. After fussing with his clothing, which was already perfectly arranged, the Altmer turned to his right and set off. As he walked past the well on his right side, Walks-in-Shadows saw him. The Argonian allowed the Altmer to gain a slight lead, then started to follow. He was pretty sure that he knew where Seridur was heading, but there was no harm in being certain.

Walks-in-Shadows trailed Seridur through the gate of the Temple District to the Talos Plaza District, and then through the gate to the City Isle. The two humanoids, Altmer and Argonian, passed the Chestnut Handy Stables on their right and crossed the bridge, then Seridur turned to the left, placing the Wawnet Inn behind him, and began walking southwards on the Red Ring Road, Walks-in-Shadows following closely behind while being careful not to be caught by the subject of his tail. Seridur strolled almost leisurely along the Red Ring Road as it led around the land outside of the City Isle, first to the south, then to the east, then up again to the north. After an hour of walking, Walks-in-Shadows wondered why the Altmer hadn't simply hired a horse from the Chestnut Handy Stables as he had passed them, then realised that either the owner of the stables would ask too many questions about a horse being kept out all night, or Seridur had simply not wished to spend the money on hire fees.

Once Seridur reached a point of the road that was across from the Arcane University, he started to walk in the direction of the City Isle upon which it stood. It was at this point that a wolf caught Walks-in-Shadows' scent and rushed to attack him as Seridur continued on his way. The Argonian unsheathed his shortsword, cursing, and defended himself. It wasn't as hard a fight as he had expected because he had been able to turn some of his in-game skills into real-life actions, but it had taken more time than he had hoped. By the time he had killed the wolf and could go in the direction that Seridur had taken, the Altmer was nowhere to be seen.

Walks-in-Shadows swore, "Vilgehk ramm!" took out his bedroll, and spread it out in a position behind some rocks away from the cave entrance. He knew that Seridur would be several hours in Memorial Cave, the cave outside of which the reptilian humanoid was now going to sleep. He would have to sleep in his armour, but before he settled himself for the night, he unequipped his weapons, and took off his gauntlets, helmet, and boots. Helmets were never designed with Argonians in mind, so Walks-in-Shadows knew that if he left his on, it would hold his crest to his head all night, which would cause extreme discomfort because of the compression lasting longer than he could bear. He arranged his things around him, placing his weapons close at hand, then lay down and went to sleep. Hopefully, he would be able to wake before dawn.

Several hours passed, then Walks-in-Shadows woke up, blinked for a second, and started. Why was it dark? Then he recalled what he was here for and relaxed. If it was still dark, then it obviously wasn't yet dawn and he had plenty of time before Seridur was due to leave Memorial Cave. While the dark Argonian realised that he could simply have followed the Altmer inside, he also knew how likely it was to be highly dangerous. After all, he owned only a couple of Chameleon potions, and he wished to save those for other purposes. Instead, he decided to look for dead vegetation that could form the basis of a fire. After he had found sufficient dead grass and leaves with which to kindle a pyre, Walks-in-Shadows re-equipped himself once more, this time leaving his rough leather helmet off. He shouldn't need it for what he was going to do, and the more time it was off, the more time before it again caused him aggravation.

Walks-in-Shadows had now been up for he didn't know how long, and the work he'd done had woken him up some more so that he was now as alert as he could be. He positioned himself behind some rocks near the mouth of the cave so that no one who emerged from it would see him although he could still see them, then took his bow and an arrow from his quiver, stringing the bow and nocking the arrow so that he would be ready when the time came. After he had prepared himself, the dark Argonian had to wait almost half an hour before he saw the Altmer this time around. A few times while he waited, he sang:

"Oh, it's bad luck to be you

Don't think for just one second it's not true

When your life has run amuck

You will realise you're the schmuck

Oh, it's bad luck to be

Really bad luck to be

Nobody could disagree

It's a freakin' guarantee

It's bad luck to be you

Diddly doo"

Because Walks-in-Shadows had such a fine sense of irony, he'd sung that part of the song from The Bard's Tale because it was very fitting, given the situation, and it made him chuckle wryly. It was after the umpteenth repetition of the simple verse that he saw Seridur leave the cave. He drew the bowstring taut as the Altmer passed within inches of him, then let the arrow fly at the back of the High Elf's head. The arrow struck, causing Seridur to stop in his tracks, and Walks-in-Shadows dropped his bow and drew his shortsword, preparing to battle for his life, but just then, the Altmer's body dropped to the ground. Seridur was safely in the Void.

The Argonian resheathed his sword, picked up and put away his bow, then went over to the body and dragged it to the place he had spent the night. He placed it on the bedroll with one arm draped over its head, hiding the arrow so the corpse looked like it was only sleeping, then emptied his satchels and set off in search of some dead branches for the pyre he was going to build. He didn't have to search as far as he had thought he would, as there were some trees fairly nearby that he hadn't seen in the pre-dawn darkness when he had sought kindling. After finding sufficient wood for his needs, Walks-in-Shadows walked back to his campsite and sought a clear spot, where he laid the kindling before carefully positioning the wood on top of it. He went over to his bedroll and removed the arrow from the Altmer corpse's head, cleaning it on the sand of the shore of Lake Rumare and putting it back into his quiver, then stripped the body of everything and carelessly placed the items with his other things. He would go through them properly later, but right now, he still had a job to do.

With the body now naked, the umbric Argonian picked it up and slung it over his shoulder, then carried it over to the fire and placed it on top. He lit the fire with a simple Fireball spell that he had purchased the training in from Trayvond the Redguard, who actually was a Redguard, of the Cheydinhal Mages Guild, then went to the things he'd taken from the Altmer corpse that was now burning. Walks-in-Shadows picked through the items, carefully folding or arranging each thing as he picked it up. There was a chainmail cuirass, a blue velvet doublet, a blue velvet garment, blue suede shoes, a gold amulet, a gold emerald ring, and a gold ruby ring. There were also a few Chameleon scrolls, a hundred and fifty-eight Septims, and a bottle of Cyrodiilic brandy. The Argonian was pleased about the money, the scrolls, and the alcohol, of course, but he was even more delighted about the jewellery, which he could enchant with any spell once he knew how, or even sell for a lot of money if he really had to.

With some mutton, lettuce, and one of the bread rolls, Walks-in-Shadows made himself a sandwich. This was rather a risk because he had gluten and dairy intolerances back in his own world, but he was very hungry by now, not having eaten since he had woken up at the Newlands Lodge, and he thought he might as well see whether or not his new body had the same digestive problems as his old one. He gratefully opened his mouth and sank his teeth into the sandwich, biting off a large mouthful, then sighed in satisfaction as he chewed. It had been a very long time since he had eaten edible bread that didn't fall apart on being held.

The dark Argonian quickly polished off his meal in this manner, then having finished, decided to try something he'd had in his mind since he'd discovered what a long, flexible tongue he now had.

'Well,' he thought, pleased with what he had learnt, 'in their lists of Argonian abilities, UESPWiki, OblivioWiki and the Elder Scrolls Wiki never mentioned hands-free nose picking!'

Now that he was done with his disgusting new trick for the time being, Walks-in-Shadows drank an energy restoration potion as he was thirsty by now, then rinsed the empty bottle and its cork in the waters of Lake Rumare before setting them aside to dry. He packed up the rest of his things, including the items he'd removed from the corpse he was cremating, then turned his attention to the pyre. It had died down and gone out now, the wood and the body having been totally consumed by the blaze, and that surprised the beastman, as he knew that even in the gas cremators of the world he had previously inhabited, small pieces of bone were often left behind, making it necessary to rake them out with the ashes. However, he couldn't think about that now as there were things to be getting on with.

Walks-in-Shadows looked around until he had found a small, flat piece of rock that was larger at one end than the other, then picked up the bottle he'd rinsed out earlier and which was now dry. With the large end of the stone he held, he scooped up the ashes of the now-dead fire before using the narrow end to carefully pour them into the bottle. After this was done, he resealed the bottle with its cork. Now he had a bottle of Vampire Ash, a useful ingredient for alchemy. The Argonian packed the Vampire Ash away with his other things, then took his quiver off so he could put his satchels back on before re-equipping himself and donning his rough leather helmet once more. Then he set off on his journey back to Cheydinhal.

Walks-in-Shadows headed back to the Red Ring Road, went north up it until he reached the Blue Road to the east, then turned onto that, keeping up a scout walk all the while. After twenty-two minutes of alternately walking and running from the lakeshore near Memorial Cave, the Argonian saw a path to his left and headed up it, hoping to find an abandoned campsite or something similar. He was tired after his morning of physical exertion, and could really do with a couple of hours or so of sleep. As he reached the end of the path, he was surprised and gratified to see not an abandoned camp, but an abandoned cabin as he would have expected had he not been so weary. He walked up to it and tried the door. Locked. Oh, well, this would just be an opportunity to learn if he was as good at lockpicking as he was at picking pockets. Two snapped picks later, Walks-in-Shadows went through the door and lit some candles before closing it, then quickly located the bed and went over to it, unequipping and undressing himself as he did so before dropping his things as he reached it. He pulled out his coarse linen shirt from one of his satchels, then put it on before getting under the covers and arranging his things on the bedcovers at his back. Although he had not gone back to Seridur's house as he had planned, the beastman thought that maybe it wouldn't matter. In fact, it may actually help. He had forgotten the darkness of his scales, which wasn't so obvious during the twilight. Whereas if he _had_ visited during the day, Cylben Dolovas would be more easily able to remember him. As things stood, it was likely that all the Dunmer bodyguard would be able to say is that an Argonian had called to enquire after his master the evening before his disappearance. The reptilian humanoid thanked God that he had forgotten to go back to the Imperial City.

While thinking on these things, having had a tiring day so far and a night in the open before it, Walks-in-Shadows drifted happily into a sound sleep. He hadn't seen the black horse that was hobbled to one side of the cabin.

Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.

('It's Bad Luck to be You'; Copyright © 2005 Tommy Tallarico. All rights reserved.)


	6. Meeting Lucien

Chapter Five: Meeting Lucien.

Lucien Lachance was squatting in silence by the side door of the cabin that was to be the meeting place of himself and the new candidate when he heard the sound of footsteps going towards the front door. Not knowing who it was and not wishing to be seen, he simply remained in place. Thus it was that he was also able to hear the scraping of lockpicks and the cursing in a strange language that followed the sounds of two of them snapping. The Speaker did not hear the door relock after the picking attempt was successful. However, whoever it was obviously wasn't somebody bent on simply clearing the place out of whatever it held, as they had still not emerged after half an hour. Lucien decided that this must be the new candidate he was supposed to invite into the Dark Brotherhood, so he sneaked around to the door that the other had entered, and noiselessly slipped inside.

As he entered the one-storey wooden building, casting a Night-Eye spell of short duration in order to see better, Lucien could see that the candidate had obviously been very tired. The person was in the bed with the covers pulled up well over his head, did not move at all, which was evidence of a very deep slumber, and there was no fire lit in the hearth whatsoever. It was this last thing that demonstrated the candidate's tiredness most clearly, as everybody in the Tamrielic Empire had tools, of one kind or another, with which to start a fire. And, of course, nobody in Tamriel would go to bed without a fire lit and banked in the hearth during the month of Evening Star. Another thing that Lucien noted was the candidate's belongings on the bed covers behind him as he lay on his side. A strange habit, but harmless. After making all of these observations, the Speaker made his way as carefully as he could to a chair which he could see near the fireplace in the candlelight that cast flickering shadows in the windowless cabin. Seating himself, he began rehearsing the various lines he used each time he made his invitation.

It was in the middle of his umpteenth repetition that Lucien's consciousness was nudged back into full alertness by movements from the bed. This was it. Rising into a standing position, the Imperial smoothed his robes, and then walked over to the bed so he could be easily seen as the sleeper got up. A few minutes more, then the candidate awoke fully, and as his face emerged from the covers, Lucien forgot his lines. His prisoner!

"Buongiorno," the Argonian said, seeing him and sitting up fully. "Isn't this where you're supposed to give me the spiel offering me a place in a 'rather unique family,' a Blade of Woe, and orders to kill someone so that you may test my commitment?" He said the word 'spiel' with the correct Deutsch pronunciation, making it sound as though it started with a sh sound.

The Dark Brotherhood Speaker's feelings of amazement, puzzlement, and not a little curiosity were, for the first time since his youth, clear upon his face. The reptilian humanoid, however, couldn't read these emotions.

"That's a funny look you've got on your face," he said.

Lucien managed to resume his normal calm appearance once again. "So tell me," he asked, "what's your name?"

"Walks-in-Shadows," the dark Argonian replied.

"Fitting," the Speaker said.

The reptilian humanoid burst into laughter upon hearing this. "You know," he half-choked, "that's exactly what Vicente said when _he_ heard it. Is it 'cos I is black?"

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind. Just something from Earth."

"Earth?"

"Like Nirn, only very different."

"Why not tell me something about it?" Lucien suggested, once again seating himself.

So Walks-in-Shadows, helped along with various questions and prompts from the Dark Brotherhood Speaker, spoke about electricity, space exploration, the internet, and just about everything he could think of. Except, of course, anything about the Elder Scrolls series. It took a quite a few hours, and he had just finished when he felt a rather unusual sensation in his abdomen and began to shift around uncomfortably, his tail twitching at the side of his leg.

Lucien noticed this and asked, "Is something wrong?"

"I've got this feeling like I need to go." the dark Argonian replied.

"Go?"

"Yeah, you know."

This time, Lucien comprehended. 'To go' was not something he had ever heard before, but the umbric Argonian's reticence and signs of discomfort were nothing new to him.

"So what's the matter?" he asked.

"It feels kinda strange," Walks-in-Shadows whimpered.

"How does it feel strange?"

"Well, I'm used to either pressure low down at the front from my bladder, or pressure at the back from my bowel. This pressure's high in the front."

Suddenly, it all became clear to the Speaker.

"You mean that you've never passed waste as an Argonian before?" he asked.

"No. Why, what's different?"

"Well, you see," Lucien was embarrassed about this, but it had to be explained, "Argonians do not have separate holes."

"What?" Walks-in-Shadows was horror-struck. While the Elder Scrolls wikis had never said that Argonians had the same genitalia as Men, Mer, Orcs, and Khajiit, all males of every race had always been shown with the same bulges in the front of their greaves on the inventory screens in the games.

"Have you never wondered why you do not need to pass water?" asked the Speaker.

"I've not drunk much," explained Walks-in-Shadows.

"Argonians don't actually need to drink as much as the other races because you don't lose as many fluids as we do. The real reason is that you won't pass water until you pass waste, and it all comes out of your cloaca at once."

"That's horrible!"

"Unfortunately, that is the way it is. Also, since there doesn't seem to be a privy at this cabin, you'll have to do it outside. There's a bush at the front that isn't too near the door."

"Um, there's one more problem."

"And that is?"

"I'm not exactly dressed for going outside. Please?"

So Lucien stood up and turned his back, sighing as he did so. Walks-in-Shadows got out of bed before getting his rugged pants and putting them on. Then he left the cabin, and the Speaker heard him say, "Thanks, Lucien," as he did so.

Several minutes passed, then Walks-in-Shadows came back in. He walked up to Lucien and stood in front of him, shuffling from foot to foot and clearly uncomfortable about something.

"Is there something else that you need?" asked the Speaker.

"Well…" the Argonian was hesitant.

"I cannot know what it is you want unless you tell me."

"I need you to look at it." The words came out in a rush.

"Look at it?"

"Yeah."

"Why, by Sithis, if I may ask?"

"Well, where I came here from, I'm Autistic and I have digestive problems. I've already found out that having a new body hasn't made me Neurotypical, so I may still have gut issues. The way I can usually tell if I'm having a reaction to something is if my waste is weird, but I don't know what an Argonian's hraka's supposed to look like. _Please_, Lucien."

"Oh, very well," said the Dark Brotherhood Speaker, accompanying Walks-in-Shadows out of the door.

The two of them walked to the bush where the Argonian had passed his waste. A seven inch length of faeces lay on the grass between one of the bushes and the wall of the cabin, almost hidden from sight. Lucien crouched down and examined the waste, then stood up again and said, "That looks perfectly normal to me."

"Are you sure?" Walks-in-Shadows asked, worriedly. "That's just a pellet."

"As is to be expected."

"But I usually pass much more than that!"

"But you're not now what you once were anymore, remember?"

"And what's that white bubble on the end of it?"

"That's your water. I told you that it would all come out of your cloaca at once, and that's how it comes out. I assure you, that is healthy Argonian waste, so you may use it to make a comparison in the future."

"Okay. Thanks, Lucien," responded Walks-in-Shadows. Then he grinned and said, "Cheers, big ears!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're supposed to say, 'Same goes, big nose!' Especially since it's now true!" Walks-in-Shadows said, encircling his snout with his hands to make his point.

Lucien got the joke and chuckled slightly. It was rather good, and the making of it was proof that Walks-in-Shadows' usual cheeky nature was reasserting itself. As he turned to leave, the Argonian stopped him.

"You still haven't done what you came here to do," he complained.

Lucien stopped in his tracks and turned back towards Walks-in-Shadows.

"You are indeed correct," he said. "So, I would like to extend an invitation to you to join our family. Here is a special dagger called the Blade of Woe, you are to go to the Inn of Ill Omen and -"

"Kill the man called Rufio that I'll find there," finished the dark Argonian, taking the proffered dagger.

Lucien's face once again lost its composure as he responded, "Yes. Tell me, how did you know that? How do you know Vicente Valtieri and myself? In fact, how _do_ you know the things that you do?"

Walks-in-Shadows shrugged his shoulders as he replied, "I can't explain that. At least, not yet I can't. I really wish I could, believe me."

Lucien decided not to press the Argonian any further on the subject. Instead, he said, "I've been told that you deliberately committed the murder that earned you this invitation. Is that true?"

"Yeah, of course it is."

"May I ask why?"

"The dude deserved it! He was a vampire -"

"You murdered him just because he was a vampire?"

"_If_ you'll let me finish, I was gonna say that the dude was a vampire who killed Roland Jenseric's betrothed."

"But Roland Jenseric was the vampire who killed his betrothed. The Champion of Cyrodiil avenged her death herself."

"And yet the poor woman's death remained unavenged. Your much-vaunted Champion made a mistake and killed the wrong person. In fact, Roland _wasn_'_t_ a vampire, he was simply unfortunate enough to witness the murder of his beloved by Seridur, who immediately turned around and accused the innocent man of the crime to take suspicion away from himself, a rich and powerful man. This ploy worked so well that, a few days later, Roland was killed in this very cabin, the Bosmer who would become the Champion of Cyrodiil proclaimed her deed to the Order of the Virtuous Blood, and then she received two hundred and fifty Septims of blood money from Seridur for what she had done. Early this morning, I personally avenged the murders of both Roland and his betrothed by killing the one who was ultimately responsible for those deeds. Also, because I was the only person not of Oblivion who was aware of the full facts, my act of moral justice was regarded as a murder by the Night Mother, and I earned my invitation into the Dark Brotherhood."

As Walks-in-Shadows related this narrative, Lucien's face went from calm, through bewilderment and amazement, to awe. By the time the umbric Argonian had finished, the Speaker had once again resumed his normal calm demeanour, but the admiration was clear in his voice as he said, "Your vengeance is a plot worthy of me."

"Danke sehr," Walks-in-Shadows replied, giving a low sweeping bow in the medieval Italiano style. He had learnt this bow from playing Assassin's Creed 2 and Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood on his PS3, the console on which he had played the game in which he now seemed to be trapped for he didn't know how long. Maybe forever.

"By the way, do you know what you have to do once you've completed this contract?" Lucien enquired.

Walks-in-Shadows answered, "Go to the Abandoned House in Cheydinhal, give the correct response to a question - which I already know, by the way - to gain entrance through the door in the basement, then seek out Ocheeva who greets all the new recruits."

The Speaker was again impressed. That was exactly what new recruits had to do, in essence. He asked, "So, when exactly did you lose your fear of me?"

"I don't know," answered the Argonian, "maybe about the time I woke up, saw you standing there, and realised you were too gobsmacked to want to paralyse me again."

"Gobsmacked?"

"It means astounded."

"I see. Well, I am returning to Cheydinhal for now. I hope that I'll see you when you're in the Brotherhood."

"Farewell, Lucien," Walks-in-Shadows said. Then he called in a slightly louder voice, "Farewell, Shadowmere." Then he turned around and re-entered the cabin.

Lucien was not surprised by now that the Argonian had known Shadowmere's name or the fact that she was there, so he simply unhobbled and mounted her, then nudged her into a walk back towards the Blue Road.

As Shadowmere's quickening hoof beats faded out of his earshot, Walks-in-Shadows attached his new dagger's sheath to his belt, got changed into his armour, then packed his clothes away before re-equipping himself with his satchels and weapons. After remaking the bed, he placed his helmet on his head and donned his gauntlets before exiting the cabin for the final time that day.

And as he headed into the dusk, Walks-in-Shadows determined never to eat again. He really hadn't liked the peculiar sensation he'd had that afternoon, nor its inevitable result.

Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.


	7. Discussing the Candidate

Chapter Six: Discussing the Candidate.

Author's Note: Apparently, Annactas Liefe is gay. I do hope he's handsome.

After riding for quarter of an hour, Lucien Lachance reached the Black Waterside Stables, led Shadowmere into the paddock, then walked through the West Gate into Cheydinhal. He went down the main street past the inns and the shops, crossed the northernmost bridge, turned left and walked alongside the riverbank, then turned right to walk past the graveyard outside of the Great Chapel of Arkay and on towards the Abandoned House. When he reached the well outside of the house, the Dark Brotherhood Speaker unlocked it, then went down the ladder inside.

In the main area of the Sanctuary, Lucien was greeted by Vicente Valtieri, who immediately took the Speaker to his own chamber on the lowest level where he offered him a goblet of Tamika Vintage 399, which was gratefully accepted. Lucien had always enjoyed a good wine, and this was one of the best. After pouring himself a goblet of Dunmer blood, the vampire got down to business.

"The latest recruit gave me this back yesterday, Brother," he said, holding up a gold amulet. "It had apparently been left hanging on the handle of the basement door in the Abandoned House."

"Dear Brother, of what import is that to me?" asked Lucien, sipping at his wine.

"It's mine, Brother, and I first missed it after saying goodbye to the Argonian we both know, along with three hundred Septims."

Lucien chuckled and said, "Well, dear Brother, if he can steal an amulet from around the neck of a vampire in the Dark Brotherhood, he may prove to be quite a useful addition to our family."

"What do you mean, Brother?" Vicente enquired, sharply.

For answer, Lucien handed him the note that had been tied to Shadowmere's stirrup leather. Once Vicente had read it, he looked enquiringly at the Speaker.

"When I got to the meeting place indicated in that note, guess who I met, dear Brother?" asked Lucien in an oblique way.

The vampire looked startled as he enquired, "Really, Brother? Whom did he murder?"

"A vampire called Seridur, in what our Argonian friend called an 'act of moral justice,' dear Brother. He claimed that it was Seridur who murdered Roland Jenseric's lover, and was indirectly responsible for the death of Roland himself. I'm rather inclined to believe him. He was able to tell me of many strange and miraculous things from his home world that he takes for granted in the same way that we do Illusion spells and lantern light. He also passed waste as an Argonian for the first time this morning, and was not able to properly identify the need to do so. I have studied people for many years, and his reaction to the unfamiliar sensation was definitely not feigned. Neither was his inability to recognise healthy Argonian waste."

Lucien related to Vicente everything of the time that he had spent with Walks-in-Shadows, sparing no detail, then followed with a full account of all the dark Argonian had told him about Earth. The vampire was particularly fascinated by what he heard about the internet, and especially the devices it could be accessed from. Being able to project one's voice an extremely long distance was something that had not been achieved on all of Nirn, yet Earth had accomplished this feat _without_ magic? And earth people could do it from wherever they happened to be? Astounding! And the days had strange names. Instead of Sundas, Morndas, Tirdas, Middas, Turdas, Fredas, and Loredas, they had Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Why were they still named after gods that the people of Earth no longer worshipped? And why did Earth have no beast races? Were apes the only creatures on Earth capable of evolving to such a level? Also, these 'printing press' things would have to be found out about in more detail. They could prove highly useful on Nirn.

Pulling himself out of these musings for the moment, Vicente related all he had heard and observed from Walks-in-Shadows during the time they had spent together, and told of his own bewilderment at discovering that his amulet and money were missing, as well as his perplexity when the amulet was later returned.

"After all, Brother," he said, "why not sell the amulet since he obviously wanted Septims? It wouldn't have fetched above one hundred of them, but that isn't an insignificant amount."

"I believe that's something we'll find out when he comes to this Sanctuary, dear Brother."

"Do you truly believe that he'll come here, Brother?"

"I have no doubt of it, dear Brother. After all, he deliberately committed a murder just to gain the Night Mother's attention, if you recall. He obviously wishes to be in the Dark Brotherhood. As you told me, when he left your company that day, he did say, 'See you soon!' I wonder, how _did_ he know he would be invited into _this_ Sanctuary?"

"That's probably part of his 'long story,' Brother," said Vicente. "He said that he'd write a book about it one day if he was in our world long enough. I wonder if he knows enough about those 'printing presses' he told you about that one could be built. I imagine the Black Horse Courier would appreciate such a thing, and his book could be printed on one. And how much do you think he knows about those 'promissory notes'?"

"I'll have to leave it to you to get those details. As you know, dear Brother, because of my duties with the Black Hand, I'm far too busy much of the time to sit down with recruits and interview them."

"Yet you spent many hours with Walks-in-Shadows at Roland Jenseric's cabin, Brother," the vampire pointed out.

"That was my only contract at the time, dear Brother," Lucien replied. "If I'd had any others, I probably wouldn't have waited for him to awaken, but simply left a note and the Blade of Woe. However, while I recognise the practicality of such measures, I've always preferred the personal touch. And I'm now glad that I did await his return to consciousness. He clearly needed somebody from this world to explain certain facts, and we've both learned much about him as a result of the time I spent in his company."

"That's true," admitted Vicente. "However, Brother, I can't help but feel uneasy about him. He holds many mysteries, and if he needed somebody to explain basic things to him, how will I be able to send him out on his contracts with any confidence?"

"He was able to kill a vampire, and when I saw him later, he had only a small cut on his neck to show for it," remarked Lucien. "So I have every confidence in his abilities, dear Brother. Now I must see Ocheeva, then return to my home and await my next contract."

The two friends said their farewells to each other, then Lucien sought out Ocheeva. He always told her a little about the latest recruits, and Walks-in-Shadows would be no different in this regard, especially as he was so highly unusual. The Speaker may have been the titular head of the Cheydinhal Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary, but it was Ocheeva who was the mistress of it and directly ran the day-to-day affairs. Once his business was finally concluded, Lucien departed for Fort Farragut. He had things to do, and not having to return to Walks-in-Shadows to give him further instructions gave him the time to do them.

Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.


	8. Killing Rufio

Chapter Seven: Killing Rufio.

It took Walks-in-Shadows two hours to reach the Inn of Ill Omen, and once he'd arrived, he walked through the door, approached the bar in front of him, and ordered a room and twenty bottles of mead. He thought the mead might taste better than the alternatives of cheap wine, beer, or ale, none of which he had liked when on Earth.

"Aren't you going to order anything to eat?" The innkeeper, Manheim Maulhand, asked the dark Argonian after giving him directions to his room.

"I had a large meal before I set off on my journey," Walks-in-Shadows lied.

"But what about later?" persisted Manheim.

"I've got plenty of food in one of my satchels," the Argonian said. This, at least, was the truth.

"Fine," the innkeeper responded, "just let me know if you do need anything."

Walks-in-Shadows took his mead, put it into one of his satchels, and walked to his room. Once there he removed his quiver, satchels, gauntlets, and helmet, placing them on the bedroll on the floor, then he left the room again and sneaked downstairs where he crouched in the shadows on the bottommost steps and watched the inn door. He didn't have to wait as long as he'd feared he would, for after just a few minutes, the Imperial Legion Forester he'd expected walked in from outside. The Forester went up to the bar, ordered a drink, then engaged Manheim in conversation while the Argonian used the opportunity thus afforded him to sneak behind the stairs and through a trapdoor into the private quarters of the inn.

Once in the basement, Walks-in-Shadows went to the second of the two doors on his left and entered it, looking towards the bed and smiling as he did so. Rufio was there, lying on his side, fast asleep. The umbric Argonian closed the door and crept over to the bed, unsheathed the Blade of Woe, then held it against the Breton's neck before shaking him awake.

"Who are you? What do you want? I ain't done nothin'!" came the immediate response.

"Sithis demands your life," Walks-in-Shadows hissed.

"Oh, please, no! I can pay you! Name your price! Anything! Anything! Please, just let me live!" Rufio yelled.

"Yet Sithis would welcome you into the Void. You must have done something which pleased him," his assailant stated. He had an idea of what Rufio had done, but he wanted more details.

The Breton then yelled, "No! Please! I didn't mean to do it, you understand me? She struggled! I… I told her to just stay still, but she wouldn't listen! I had no choice!"

"How old was she? And tell me the truth, it may save your life." It wouldn't, but the Argonian was curious. Only speculation could be given in the wikis.

"Th… thir… thirteen!"

Walks-in-Shadows drew the Blade of Woe across Rufio's throat and watched him bleed out, bright red arcs shooting through the air and dark red gouts pooling on the pillow. The last thing that the Breton heard before entering the Void was, "You should have said thirty-something, you sick vilgehk pervert. I'd have smothered you in your sleep instead."

The reptilian humanoid left the room and climbed the ladder back into the main area of the inn, then looked towards the bar. Tysh! The Forester was gone and Manheim was alone. Time to try a different tactic. Walks-in-Shadows collapsed loudly enough to gain the innkeeper's attention. Manheim immediately rushed over and helped him back up. The dark Argonian must have come downstairs while he was talking with the Forester.

"You must have drunk all your mead," he said, confused. Twenty bottles of mead should only get an Argonian tipsy.

Walks-in-Shadows nodded and giggled. "An' so'e bo'les o' Seerdilic brandy," he slurred. "I celebratin'."

"What are you celebrating?" the innkeeper asked. At least the Argonian's drunken state was explained.

"Jus' go' a rea' good job. Gonna star' soon as I reach Cheydinhal."

"Ah," said Manheim, "well just you be careful not to get drunk while you're working, or you'll soon lose that job."

"Yeah, I be rea' carefu'. Fanks," replied Walks-in-Shadows.

The two of them had reached the Argonian's room by this time, so the innkeeper supported him to the bedroll and laid him on it on his side. Then he left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

As soon as Manheim's footsteps had faded away, Walks-in-Shadows got out his mortar and pestle, his food, and his mead. He opened one of the bottles and drank its contents as he ground some of the food up. When the bottle was empty, he carefully scraped the resulting dry paste into it. He could add water as soon as he got to the first bridge near Lake Rumare. The umbric Argonian did the same with the other nineteen bottles and most of the other food. As soon as he'd finished the last bottle, he had a pretty good buzz, so he decided to go to sleep for a few hours so he could recover his strength.

Once Walks-in-Shadows woke up, he packed his mortar and pestle, the rest of the food, and the twenty bottles of alchemical paste into his satchels, then re-equipped himself. He went downstairs, clutching his head in a show of pain.

"Hangover?" Manheim enquired.

"Yeah, bad one," the dark Argonian moaned.

"Perhaps you shouldn't drink so much Cyrodiilic brandy the next time you drink mead," the innkeeper stated.

"I'll take that under advisement," Walks-in-Shadows said dryly as he left the inn.

If the truth be told, the reptilian humanoid was feeling peculiar, but not as a result of intoxication or any of its after effects. He seemed to not be able to walk and run with his usual rapidity, he wasn't able to jump as high as he was used to, and landing after jumping from his normal height limit actually hurt. He would have to find out exactly what was wrong with him. Having made up his mind on this, he got to the Green Road and turned north on it to make his way back to Cheydinhal.

And at just about this same time, Manheim Maulhand began to wonder exactly how the umbric Argonian had managed to get so drunk from twenty bottles of mead and an unspecified number of bottles of Cyrodiilic brandy in such a short amount of time.

Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.

('Rufio's Words'; Copyright © 2006 Bethesda Softworks. All rights reserved.)


	9. Joining the Brotherhood

Chapter Eight: Joining the Brotherhood.

It took Walks-in-Shadows five hours to reach Cheydinhal. At the first bridge from the Inn of Ill Omen, he'd filled his bottles of paste to form health and energy restoration potions as he'd planned, then he had decided to have a swim. It would get him clean and allow him to test out the Argonian water breathing he had often vicariously engaged in after his Bosmer character had equipped Fin Gleam, an enchanted glass helmet, on herself.

After stripping down to his loincloth, the dark Argonian re-equipped himself with his belt and shortsword, then dived into the water. Either it wasn't as cold as he had expected it to be, or Argonians had skin that was more impervious to extremes of temperature than that of Earth humans. Either way, although he had always hated the feel of water on his skin when he was human, Walks-in-Shadows was actually enjoying this. He had so much fun while swimming that he spent almost two hours underwater, coming across and fighting off only a few slaughterfish during that time. Then he recalled that he had somewhere to be, so he got out, the water dripping off his scales as he climbed the bank, took off his loincloth and squeezed the water from it before he rewrapped it and got back into his armour, then re-equipped his other things before setting off on his journey once more.

When he eventually reached Cheydinhal, the umbric Argonian went straight to the Abandoned House and unlocked the door, breaking no lockpicks this time. It was an easier lock than the one on Roland Jenseric's cabin had been, and that lock had provided some experience. Now that he had access to the house once again, Walks-in-Shadows opened the door and went inside. He walked back down to the basement and approached the Ancient Black Door from the other side than he had the time he had left the Sanctuary.

In a hoarse whisper, the Ancient Black Door asked its usual question, "What is the colour of night?"

"Sanguine, my Brother," the Argonian answered once again.

After he had re-entered the Sanctuary and the door had swung shut behind him, he heard it respond, "Welcome home." An Argonian in shrouded armour without a hood was approaching him. Who was he? Then the Argonian spoke.

"Greetings! Greetings! I am Ocheeva, mistress of this Sanctuary. Lucien has told me all about you. Let me welcome you to the Dark Brotherhood!"

Walks-in-Shadows was startled. In pictures on the Oblivion wikis, Ocheeva had breasts, making it easy to tell that she was female. But the Argonian who had just greeted him had no obvious secondary sexual characteristics, and this confused the issue. How was he supposed to tell female Argonians apart from male ones whenever they weren't speaking or wearing skirts and dresses? Going over to a table which was stood against a large pillar in the centre of the room, Ocheeva picked up a neatly folded pile of black leather from it, then returned to Walks-in-Shadows.

"Let me welcome you to the Dark Brotherhood! It is always a pleasure to welcome another Dark Brother into our ranks! Truly, the Night Mother smiles upon Her trusted sons! You stand now in our Sanctuary. May it serve now as your home, a place of comfort and security whenever the need arises. I will show you where you are to sleep. But before I do, please accept this gift from your new family. A unique set of armour, lighter than normal leather and black as the Void," she said, handing the pile of leather to the umbric Argonian. "Please also accept this key for easy access in and out of the house which shelters us."

"Okay, thanks," Walks-in-Shadows replied, taking the items and splitting them amongst his satchels.

Ocheeva then led him to the living quarters where a bed and chest had been placed for his use.

"Once you have unpacked and settled in," she said, "you may see Vicente Valtieri to get your first contract."

"Thanks for letting me know," the dark Argonian responded. He hadn't actually needed to be told, but there was no harm in being polite to someone who would be providing his contracts in the future, if the information he had read was anything to go by.

"Also, Lucien informed me that you were only recently transformed into an Argonian, and do not know a lot about our race as a result," Ocheeva then said. "He has instructed me to answer any questions you may have about us."

"Domo arigato," Walks-in-Shadows replied, then Ocheeva left the room.

The umbric Argonian, now with the rank of Murderer in the Dark Brotherhood, took off his quiver, then removed his satchels and unpacked them onto the bed, placing most of his potions and repair hammers into the chest at the side of it. Then he took off the rest of his things before repairing his armour and weapons, placing the armour, apart from his helmet, beside the other items in the chest, then he placed his clothes on top of his armour, making sure to keep his coarse linen shirt and rugged breeches out. He donned his new armour, which was much lighter than his old set had been, placed the hood on his head, noticing with gratitude that it had a lot more room for his crest than his helmet had, then re-equipped his satchels, shield, and weapons. He put his lockpicks, three of his repair hammers, the rest of his potions, his helmet, his jewellery, his nightclothes, his food, and his money back into his satchels before leaving the living quarters to see Vicente.

The vampire was sat at his table, reading as usual, when he heard a firm knock at the door. Then it opened and footsteps approached him. He put down his book and turned to look at whomever had entered.

"Walks-in-Shadows!" he exclaimed happily. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," the Argonian replied. "Um… I've got something to give you."

He reached into his satchel, pulled out all but eight Septims of his money, and gave it to Vicente.

"I'm sorry I stole it," he said, "but I needed it. You can take the rest from what I receive for my contracts if I can't pay it back before."

"If you needed Septims so badly," the vampire asked, "why didn't you sell this?" He indicated the gold amulet that he was once again wearing.

"I only stole that for the practice," Walks-in-Shadows replied. "I'm glad to see you got it back."

"Well, I thank you for your honesty," Vicente said. "Now, for your first contract -"

"Pirate captain, Imperial City Waterfront. I'm all over it."

"Also, Lucien noticed that small cut on your neck from a fight. Have you had any symptoms?"

"What cut?" the Argonian asked. He hadn't noticed any cut.

"This cut," the vampire said, pointing it out. "Have you had any symptoms?" he again enquired.

So Walks-in-Shadows related the problems he had noticed, which made Vicente surprised.

"You didn't get that cut from the vampire you murdered?" he queried.

"No. I took _him_ out with a single arrow," the dark Argonian explained. "I must have got this cut from the wolf I fought the night before."

"Ah, you have obviously contracted hell joint," the vampire stated. "Sit down and I'll make you the remedy."

He searched in his chest and pulled out a twig-like thing that looked like a little man without arms, and a mortar and pestle. He prepared and chopped the twig before putting it into the mortar, used the pestle to grind it up into a dry paste, then mixed in some water to hydrate the potion before pouring it into a stone cup and giving it to Walks-in-Shadows who sniffed at it suspiciously before putting it down.

"I can't drink that," he complained, "it smells nasty."

"You must if you wish to get better. I know that mandrake root tastes very unpleasant, but it's the most effective remedy I know, and is faster than anything else except an altar, which we're unable to use. The priests of the chapels recognise us for what we are because of where we live, and we're unwelcome there as a consequence," said Vicente.

So the umbric Argonian picked up the cup and poured the potion down his throat without allowing it to touch his tongue. After this, he said his goodbyes to the vampire and walked from the room. Before he departed the Sanctuary, however, he had one more thing to do. He went up the steps to Ocheeva's room and knocked on her door before entering.

"Greetings, dear family member," she said, seeing him. "I do hope you are faring well."

"Ocheeva, I gotta ask you something," said Walks-in-Shadows.

"How may I assist you?"

"Well, I noticed that there's no obvious way to tell whether an Argonian's male or female. How am I supposed to know which I am?"

"The head adornments of male Argonians will always be larger than those of females, and I can see by yours that you're male. But if you still harbour any doubts, simply look at the base of your abdomen. Each male has a flap of skin above his vent, no female does."

"Thanks, Ocheeva," said the dark Argonian.

Ocheeva responded, "Go now, dear family member, and may the Night Mother wrap you in her cold, loving embrace."

Walks-in-Shadows left the room, closing the door behind him. Then he exited the Sanctuary and went to the Cheydinhal Mages Guild to get a recommendation from them for the Arcane University.

He still hadn't eaten anything since he had made his vow not to.

Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.

('Ocheeva's Greeting' and 'Ocheeva's Farewell'; Copyright © 2006 Bethesda Softworks. All rights reserved.)


	10. The Death of Tussaud

Chapter Nine: The Death of Tussaud.

Within a few days, Walks-in-Shadows had gained a recommendation from each branch of the Mages Guild. He had even obtained one from Bruma, which had been restored under the orders of the Arch-Mage of the Guild, Aranwen Greenwood. While gaining his recommendations, the Argonian had also found and stolen some filled Grand Soul Gems, as well as gaining the Ring of Khajiiti by going to Howling Cave and killing all of the Necromancers who dwelt within it for Meridia, a female Daedric Prince. The next thing that Walks-in-Shadows did was to follow the Yellow Road to the first bend past the Corbolo River, then leave it and locate the Shadow Stone to the north of the road. Once he had found the stone, the dark Argonian activated it and was granted the Fingernail Moon greater power. This was a Chameleon spell, which would allow him to create a simpler version that he could use at any time, as well as enchant items with Chameleon.

With the Fingernail Moon and the Grand Soul Gems in hand, Walks-in-Shadows went to the Arcane University and used a spell making altar to create a spell which would give him ten percent Chameleon on himself for fifteen seconds when cast. Then he used an enchantment altar and four of the Grand Soul Gems to enchant his helmet, necklace, one of his rings, and his shield with twenty percent Chameleon each. In total, he would have one hundred and fifteen percent Chameleon and be invisible. After a week and a half of work, he was ready.

Walks-in-Shadows travelled from the Arcane University, through the Arboretum and the Temple District, to the Waterfront. Once there, he equipped his Chameleon enchanted items, then sneaked over to the Marie Elena and into an empty crate which stood amongst others on the quay alongside the ship. After a few minutes, the crate was closed and he felt it being picked up then put down again.

"This crate's heavy for bein' empty," a voice said.

"Only the inside's empty," replied a second. "There could be ebony between the walls."

"True enough. You'll have to help me with it."

The crate was picked up again, the men carrying it laughing and making ribald jokes as they did so. Then, after what seemed like ages, the Argonian inside the crate felt it being put down once again before the voices faded into the distance. Walks-in-Shadows waited until the pirates had been gone for a few minutes, then pushed the crate open. Perfect. It didn't seem that anybody but himself was around. The umbric Argonian got out of the crate and crept to the other end of the cargo hold, then went up a ladder which was on his left. As he arrived on the mid deck, he heard the voices of the two pirates who had carried the crate discussing the Dunmer first mate, Malvulis. The conversation lasted for some minutes as Walks-in-Shadows listened.

"I'm tellin' ya, lad, it's bad luck. A woman onboard a pirate vessel! Back in my day, it never would've happened."

"Oh, come now. How many times has Malvulis saved our necks, huh? Captain Tussaud keeps her on for a reason. She's a better sailor than any one of us."

"Ho there, laddie, now you're just bein' insultin'! She may be tougher than me, and meaner too, but a better sailor? It ain't even possible!"

"Oh, right, how could I forget? That time we were almost dashed upon the rocks near the city of Firsthold. That was somebody else at the helm."

"I told you a million times, that wasn't my fault! The wheel was covered with… gull droppin's! My hand slipped! Could've happened to anyone!"

"Well, it's never happened to Malvulis, has it? You know why? 'Cos she could sail better than you in her sleep, you old fool!"

"Bah! You mark my words, boy. That Dark Elf trollop is bad luck. The captain'll end up dead with her around. You'll see."

"You'd better watch your tongue, old man. Captain Tussaud hears you talkin' like that, he'll cut it out! Now come on, we been gabbin' long enough."

After this conversation, the pirates went their separate ways. The one who'd defended the first mate coming fore to a room without a door, where he sat at the table inside to read. The sexist one went to another room, also without a door, this one nearer the aft of the ship, where he got into bed and went to sleep. The Argonian took this opportunity to sneak past them and to the ladder which led to the next deck, climbing it to the captain's cabin. When he arrived at the cabin, he took a quick look round. Good, Captain Tussaud was asleep. Walks-in-Shadows went further into the room, picked the captain's pocket for the key he carried, then used the key to unlock and loot Captain Tussaud's Booty, picking the Nirnroot he heard singing on the way. He cleared the chest of the Septims, lockpicks, and repair hammers that it held, then went over to the captain and slit his throat.

After taking the Septims that the captain had, as well as his steel cutlass, the dark Argonian unlocked the door at the back of the captain's cabin, went through it, then jumped from the balcony at the aft into the water below. He swam to the side of the harbour away from the Marie Elena and got out of the water, then walked to the Bloated Float, an inn on a ship at the other end of the quay. He walked through the door and up to the counter where he hired a room for the night from Ormil, the Altmer owner of the ship.

"The room is down below deck. It's the door on the left," said Ormil.

Walks-in-Shadows uttered his thanks as he paid the ten gold, then went downstairs to his room. He entered it and got out his coarse linen shirt and rugged breeches before stripping naked. He needed to dry his armour and loincloth. However, before getting his clothes on to sleep, the Argonian needed to check his sex. He was surprised that he hadn't remembered before. Since he didn't dare look as Ocheeva had suggested, he laid on his back on the bed, slid his hand down his abdomen, and located the flap of skin that the Dark Brotherhood Executioner had told him about. Good, he did have a male body in this world as well as in his own. He had been worried about that. While it was weird enough to no longer have any obvious genitalia and to have his bum on his belly instead of where it should be, a female body would have really put the cap on things. Now that this was done, he dressed in the clothes that he had taken from his satchels, got as much water as he could out of his wet things and into the chamber pot from under the bed, laid his gear out on the floor to dry, then got into bed and put his satchels on the covers at his back before going to sleep. He was getting more easily tired these days, and he couldn't blame hell joint this time around.

Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.

('Pirates' Conversation Concerning Malvulis'; Copyright © 2006 Bethesda Softworks. All rights reserved.)


End file.
